


Scandal

by ylc



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Class Differences, Forbidden Love, Greg is 18, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Mycroft is 17, Omega!Mycroft, Secret Relationship, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unrequited Love, beta!Greg, except not because as I said there's mutual pining, pseudo historical really, they're both teens in this, why won't they talk to each other?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14849816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ylc/pseuds/ylc
Summary: There are few scandals bigger than an unmarried Omega heir ending up pregnant: to avoid it, a quick marriage is very much needed.Too bad said heir won’t say who the father is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve said a hundred times before I have no self restraint whatsoever. This idea attacked me last week while I was too busy to even try to write, but I liked it and ended up writing it on the subway on my way back home :P I shall keep this short, although I’m afraid it’s quite angsty in the beginning. I have a thing for unplanned pregnancies (as you can probably tell if you’ve read my other works) and well… here we are. I hope you’ll enjoy it!

“--the absolute scandal! How dare you bring this shame upon our house?!” 

Greg stands just outside the drawing room, frozen to the spot, knowing he should probably walk away now before someone notices him, but also terribly curious wondering what the fuss is about, despite himself. 

He heard the news of Mycroft’s unexpected return and just wanted to greet the young heir. Maybe inquire why his fancy boarding school has sent him back home earlier than expected. He certainly isn’t going to press for answers: their “relationship” (if it can be called that) is not the sort that allows for certain questions to be asked. 

Or any questions, really. Mycroft indulges his curiosity entirely too much. 

He risks a quick peek inside the room. Lady Holmes is dramatically lying on one of the fainting couches, sobbing in what seems a little staged manner. She was the one doing the yelling, he knows, and he’s not one bit surprised. The lady has always had a penchant for theatrics (so do her children, really, although she’d deny they inherited it from her). Lord Holmes stands next to her, expression pinched tight, evident distress and anger in his features. Something very bad must have happened, but what? Mycroft is not one to get into trouble. Surely he didn’t get himself expelled! Lady Holmes words seem to suggest though… 

Greg’s eyes finally land on Mycroft and his heart stops in his chest. He’s still wearing his school uniform, but he doesn’t cut his usual polished form. For one, he’s not wearing his suit jacket or his sweater and his shirt is untucked, the top button of his pants undone since they probably don’t fit him anymore. Considering the very definite curve in his belly currently, it’s not surprising really. 

This last observation is what makes Greg’s heart stop, the reason behind Lady Holmes’ outburst quite evident. She hadn’t wanted her Omega son to leave for boarding school in the first place, citing all sort of things that could happen to him and, even worse, the scandal they could bring. Mycroft however had been determined to continue with his education and eventually, he had gotten his father to back him up. 

Now of course, it seems Lady Holmes was right in her…  concerns. 

“Do you have any idea what you have done?!” the woman exclaims, as if on cue. “The scandal, Mycroft! How could you… why didn’t you…” she gestures helplessly, her tone high pitched in distress, although it’s evident she’s less concerned about her son’s well-being than the scandal it could cause. 

“Mycroft,” Lord Holmes asks, tone deadly and a shiver runs down Greg’s spine. The lord rarely gets involved in anything that happens in the household, too busy running his business to care much about any domestic matters, but when he deigns something worth his attention… “what do you have to say for yourself?” 

The young Omega keeps his head held high, expression betraying nothing. “I won’t make any excuses, father. I realize I’ve disappointed you and compromised my future.” 

“Compromised!” Lady Holmes exclaims. “Compromised indeed! Who will want you now?!” 

Mycroft’s lips are a very thin line and Greg bites his own rather viciously, swallowing the words he longs to say. If Mycroft would have him… 

But he knows such thoughts are not only wishful thinking, but also terribly dangerous. Not even now, would the Holmes consent to their oldest son to be…   _ degraded _  in such way. They’ll have him disappear sooner than allow him to marry a no one. 

“What about the father?” Lord Holmes asks after a long pause, tone just as cold. Lady Holmes turns to him right away, something that looks like relief clear in her features. If nothing else, the man is very good at coming up with practical solutions and this one does seem quite logical. 

“No,” Mycroft says impassively, hands clasped together behind his back, a clear sign he’s uncomfortable. “It doesn’t matter,” he adds, after noticing the way his mother is staring at him. “I might… but it wasn’t… he did not care for me in that way.” 

Lord Holmes scoffs while his wife renews her sobbing, but Greg is barely paying attention. His chest hurts in an indescribable way and he has to will himself not to start crying too. He had known, naturally, that their relationship could never go anywhere, but hearing this-- thinking there’s someone else Mycroft actually wants-- 

He takes a deep breath and turns on his heel, going back to the servants’ quarters, determined not to break down until he’s safe within the walls of his small room. 

Which might not look like it, but it’s a titanic task. 

* * *

It’s nearly midnight by the time Greg knocks on Mycroft’s door. Lady Holmes retired to her room hours ago and her husband has locked himself up in his study, no doubt already planning a way out of this little…  inconvenience. Greg stands outside the room listening closely for any sound coming from inside and a few seconds later he hears the door being unlocked. His lips curve upwards briefly, although his happiness is short lived. 

The door opens barely an inch and Mycroft observes him through the small opening. Greg tries to put on his best charming smile, but he thinks it might look a little pained. He has done his very best to push his own feelings to the back of his mind, but it doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t contract painfully at the sight of his beloved. 

It seems like the world has come to a stop as they stare at each other, both completely silent, although Greg thinks his heart is beating so loudly Mycroft can probably hear it. Then the younger man opens the door wider and Greg slips in quickly, the door closing after him just as quickly. He puts the tray he brought with him on Mycroft’s small desk next to the window and he turns around to face his companion, whose back is still towards him, despite the fact he has locked the door already. Greg frowns, a bit confused, but doesn’t dare to voice his thoughts. They wait in silence.

“I thought you might be hungry,” Greg says quietly, when the silence becomes unbearable. Mycroft has yet to turn and his heart is beating so erratically, Greg worries it might just give up. 

“Thank you,” Mycroft murmurs after what feels like an eternity but can’t be more than a couple of minutes. He finally turns to him and Greg’s breath catches as he finally gets a good look at the other man. He’s wearing a simple nightgown, but his swollen abdomen makes it climb just a little higher, baring his ankles in sight and Greg can’t help the rush of arousal at the sight. 

Mycroft watches him in silence, a calculating look on his face. “Really?” he murmurs, stepping closer. The moonlight coming through the window makes him look almost ethereal in his pearl gown, with all the creamy skin in sight. “You still find me attractive?” 

Greg lets out a half hysterical chuckle, although he recovers his composure quickly.  _ Who wouldn’t, really? _ “I apologise,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze to the floor, by now well used to the guilt. He knows he has no business desiring the other man, he knows he’s well out of his reach and yet-- 

Mycroft huffs and when did he get this close? Greg breathes him in and while as a Beta his nose might not be very keen, he does get a whiff of the Omega’s heady scent. God, he wants-- he wants-- 

“There’s no need for that,” the other argues calmly, a small smile on his lips, that feels wrong somehow but Greg can’t explain why. “As the matter of fact, I think it’s rather convenient.” 

Greg forces himself not to react outwardly. Convenient is a good definition for their whole relationship and it only goes into showing how little dignity he has when he responds to Mycroft’s kiss so enthusiastically. He knows the other man doesn’t feel the same way, he has known it all along, but when Mycroft is kissing him like this it’s so easy to pretend-- 

God, he’s pathetic. 

And yet, he can’t bring himself to stop. 

* * *

Things proceed pretty much as usual from that point forward. Greg ends with his back pressed against the wall, his partner trailing open mouthed kisses over the line of his jaw. For an Omega, Mycroft can be incredibly pushy, often manhandling Greg into whatever position he wants him. Not that Greg is inclined to complain, of course. 

He manages to sneak his hands underneath his partner’s nightgown and Mycroft groans, pressing closer, his hands quickly undoing the buttons of his shirt. More often than not they don't quite manage to shed all their clothes. Both too impatient to take the time to properly undress. Tonight, however, Greg has the urge to see the other completely naked. It makes no sense, of course, why would he want to be confronted with the proof that Mycroft doesn't feel the same way that Greg he does?, but-- 

In any case, he can feel it pressing against his abdomen. The baby bump is not very noticeable at this point, but his partner had lost a lot of weight in the past year, since Lady Holmes had practically forced him to be perpetually on a diet, insisting he wouldn't manage to catch the eye of any decent Alpha looking the way he did. 

Greg of course had thought it was a bunch of bullshit, but he knew better than to say it aloud. 

Now, however, Mycroft has gained some weight back, his hips feeling more full. He lets his fingers trail his companion’s sides almost reverently and Mycroft lets out a pleased sigh, taking his nightgown off on his own. 

Greg steps back briefly, if only to shake off his own pants and hurries to take off his shirt too. Mycroft is sitting on the bed, watching him with open hunger and Greg hurries to join him, kissing him once again. 

The kiss however, is short lived, his companion apparently eager to get on with the  _ main _ event. Mycroft turns around, getting on his hands and knees and Greg gets behind him, kissing his way down his spine, running his hands down the other’s thighs, enjoying the way his partner shivers under his attentions. 

The thought that he’s not the only one who has gotten to do this sneaks upon him, causing a rush of senseless jealousy. He knows he has no claim over the Omega, but he wishes-- 

Well. It doesn't matter what he wishes for. 

One of his fingers are now lazily tracing his partner's entrance, spreading the slick dripping out. He always makes sure Mycroft is properly prepared before entering him, although he knows there's no real need for it. The Omega’s slick is enough to make the procedure enjoyable for both of them and being a Beta, Greg’s cock is nowhere near big enough to hurt his companion. 

“Gregory,” Mycroft whispers in a husky tone. “Kindly stop teasing and fuck me already.” 

Greg chuckles at this, leaning down to press another kiss to his partner's tailbone, sucking on the skin lightly while working his fingers in and out his hole, making Mycroft moan wantonly. “Eager, are we?” he asks, even as he pulls his fingers out and Mycroft groans in protest. 

“Very,” his companion tells him very seriously, while Greg lines up his erection. “It's been far too long.” 

Under different circumstances, Greg would puzzle over the Omega’s words, but right now he can barely think, all his instincts urging him to simply move and enjoy the moment. 

It has always surprised him how incredibly vocal his partner is, considering how reserved he normally behaves. Right now he’s moaning with abandon, moving in tandem with Greg’s thrusts, making the most arousing sounds that should concern Greg a little, because if someone discovered them, they would be in a world of trouble, but the walls are thick and he supposes they’re relatively safe, seeing Lord and Lady Holmes’ rooms are on the other side of the house. 

But never mind how loud Mycroft is during the act itself, he’s always impossibly quiet when he comes, burying his face in his pillow, whatever he cries out just a mumble. Now that he knows there's someone else in Mycroft’s life, Greg wonders briefly if it's that someone else’s name that his lover calls when he comes, but even that depressing thought is not enough to stop his own imminent orgasm as he feels the Omega clenching around him and so he comes with a muffled cry of his own, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying something foolish. 

He practically collapses on top of his partner and he lies there for a couple of seconds, enjoying the warmth and the closeness for as long as he dares. Being a Beta, he can’t knot them together, which he has always found somewhat regrettable. He rolls onto his side, bringing his companion with him, but his cock slips out and Mycroft groans softly in protest while Greg mourns the loss of the physical connection. Although he tries to compensate for it by pulling the other close to his chest. 

The first time they did this, he worried Mycroft wouldn't let him cuddle him afterwards, but to his great surprise the younger man has never complained. In fact, he’d go as far as suspecting that he enjoys it. Although it's hard to tell for sure, since he usually ends with his back against Greg. 

Greg closes his eyes, sated for now and he basks in the warmth of his partner, his nose buried in the nape of his neck. Mycroft always smells amazing, particularly after sex and Greg can't help mourning the fact that he’ll never again be able to even get a whiff of the other man, no matter what he tries. 

Eventually, he forces himself to snap out of his pity party. This is far more than he ever thought he would get, it's certainly more than what he could hope to deserve. So really, he should stop tormenting himself with thoughts of the things that can't be and enjoy what he has. 

He wraps his arms around Mycroft’s middle, running a hand absentmindedly over his companion’s abdomen. He allows himself to briefly fantasize about the child being his, although he knows it's hardly possible. It's a well-known fact Betas are practically infertile, so the odds of that being true are practically non-existent. 

“I can not believe you really find me attractive like this,” Mycroft murmurs, his voice a barely understandable mumble, one hand tentatively resting over Greg’s.  

“Why wouldn’t I?” Greg asks, honestly puzzled, the hand on top of Mycroft’s rounded belly caressing it in what could be interpreted as a possessive manner. “You’re as gorgeous as ever,” he says, hoping that hearing the sincerity of his words will make reassure Mycroft. “And you smell even better,” he adds after a beat, pressing his nose to the crown of his hair, breathing him in. 

Mycroft huffs, squirming a little and Greg reluctantly loosens his grip around him. “I’ve been reliably informed that no Alpha could find me attractive looking like this.” 

Greg isn’t an Alpha, though, but he doesn’t think saying so would make any difference. “Did…” he begins, uncertain about whether he really wants to have this conversation. “Did your child’s other parent tell you that?” 

Mycroft tenses and Greg regrets the question right away. However, it’s too late to take it back now, so … “No,” Mycroft answers quietly, after what seems like a lifetime. “He… I didn’t… I haven’t got the chance to tell him.” 

Greg nods, although his interlocutor can’t see him. “Maybe it’s not quite as bad as your parents fear, then,” he says, although it pains him so to say it. “You might still get married and avoid the scandal.” 

Mycroft lets out a sound that Greg assumes is meant to be laughter, but it’s closer to sob. “Unlikely,” his companion tells him quietly. “Even if… even if he wanted that, Mummy and Father would never approve.” He sighs, half burying his face on the pillow. “And besides… it’s not… it wasn’t like that.” 

Greg frowns, wondering if there’s something else Mycroft isn’t saying. As if reading his thoughts, the Omega lets out an humourless chuckle. “Nothing like that,” he tells him quietly, face still half hidden. “It was… It was one hundred percent consensual. And he never… he never lied to me about what he wanted.” 

Greg hums, incapable of saying anything at all, his heart shattering into a million pieces. He hurts, both for what he can’t have and for the pain Mycroft is no doubt in. He knows just how terrible unrequited love can be and he grieves with his partner. 

If only-- 

But no. Those are dangerous thoughts and he has no business thinking them. In any case, it’s not like it could possibly matter. 

“I should get going,” he murmurs, sitting up, relinquishing his hold of the younger man. “Eat something, will you?” 

Mycroft nods, although he doesn’t turn. Greg hesitates, a part of him wanting to climb back in bed and wrap himself around the other man, never letting him go while the more rational part of him argues he has nothing to do here. 

He sighs, quickly putting his clothes back on and slipping out of the room as soon as he can. 

He can’t keep doing this. He shouldn’t keep doing this. 

And at the same time, he doesn’t think he can stop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?  
> As I said, this first chapter is somewhat angsty and I fear the next one shall continue on the same vein. As long as the boys don’t actually talk to each other, I’m afraid there’s not much hope for them ;)  
> Let me know what you thought! Next update should be ready by the end of the week (hopefully) unless I get drowned in work ;)  
> Thanks for reading!  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter! It didn’t take me long, did it? :P  
> Enjoy!

Mycroft sits on the cold floor, watching the tub fill from the corner of his eye, absentmindedly rubbing his gently swollen abdomen. It’s late and he really should be sleeping, but after his…  _ visitor _ left, he decided a quick bath was in order, if only to get rid of the evidence of their activities.

He runs a hand between his thighs, wincing a little at the sticky mess. There’s a part of him (a silly, naive part of him) that does not wish to get rid of said evidence, but he knows it’s wiser. Even if now he can no longer fool his parents into believing he’s perfectly untouched, there’s no need to let them know just who exactly has been… defiling him.

Not that he thinks of it in such terms, of course. Gregory has always been entirely too sweet and caring with him, never once making him feel like what they are doing is wrong or dirty, as he had been raised to believe. It feels entirely too good to be wrong and if it is sinful… well, Mycroft honestly can’t care less: what a great way of paving his way into hell, really.

He’s a little concerned about the problem he has walked himself into, however. When he first found out he was pregnant, he hadn’t known what to think: with his lover being a Beta, he hadn’t thought that was an actual possibility. He had also known his parents would never approve and that they’d do anything in their power to get him to abort, so keeping the secret was crucial even though he knew, logically, that not having the baby was in everyone’s best interest. What was the point, after all, if he could never even tell the father?

And yet, he chose to keep the pregnancy a secret. He succeeded, for a while, but an unfortunate sprained wrist had him being sent to the school’s nurse and the truth was revealed shortly after. He imagines he’s the talk of the school by now; all his schoolmates speculating about his baby’s parentage no doubt. Not that it matters, at least not to him, although he his mother has worked herself into a fit just thinking about it.

The important thing now is stopping anyone from finding out who is the father. He hadn’t expected his parents to drop the subject so readily, although he imagines they’ll come back to it later. For now, however, he has some time to figure out what he wants to do.

When Gregory had come knocking earlier, he had felt torn between excitement and dread. He hadn’t expected his lover to visit him, certainly not after hearing the shocking news; why would he? He hadn’t imagined he could possibly still want him and he probably hadn’t even considered the possibility of the child being his either and Mycroft finds himself reluctant to tell him the truth. In any case, it’s likely he won’t believe him: Mycroft himself can barely believe it. They’ve never shared a Heat and Gregory is a Beta, so really, the odds of them conceiving were…

But it happened. And now he’s in a bit of a pickle.

There’s no point in telling him the truth, in any case. As much as he loves Gregory, he’s well aware that the feeling isn’t mutual. The limits of their relationship were clear from the very beginning. He recognizes that his lover has never made him any promises and so telling the truth would just make things…  _ difficult _ between them.

He turns off the tap and steps into the tub carefully, submerging his head under the water to silence the noise inside his head. The situation is far from ideal and he has no one to blame but himself. It’s not like he ever expected something to come of his ill-advised “romance”, but he certainly hadn’t expected it to end so spectacularly badly.

Not that it has ended, of course, taking into consideration tonight’s activities. But it will. Sooner or later. He’s certain his parents will find a way to marry him off as soon as possible and he’s got very little room for negotiation. He hopes he can come to an agreement with his intended, so he can keep his child, but other than that…. It’s very likely he’ll be taken far away from home, rarely ever coming to visit his parents.

He sighs, absentmindedly washing himself. Telling the truth is definitely out of the question. It would only cost him what little time he has left with the man he loves. It has never mattered to him that the sentiment runs one way and there’s a part of him (ridiculous, silly, hopeless part of him) that’s rather happy with this outcome. At least this way he’ll always have a tangible reminder of the one he loves so dearly.

It’s far more than what he ever hoped to get.

And it’ll have to be enough.

* * *

If asked to pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with Gregory Lestrade, Mycroft is sure he couldn’t. It wasn’t a single moment, he thinks, but a collection of them. Stretching over the years they’ve known each other. It’s impossible to say which one of them is more important than the others.

Gregory had come to work at the house when he was twelve, following his older sister, who no longer works in the house having found work in the city. He was always terribly clever and eager to learn whatever people were willing to teach him. He can practically do whatever chore that needs to be done. This of course has proved quite handy and it’s what has kept him employed all these years, despite Mummy’s tendency to sack the servants over any imagined offense.

Mycroft had never been a very social child and he became an even less social teen. He spent most of his time in the house’s library, reading material that, according to his teachers, he had no business reading. Being an Omega, he found it hard to have people take him seriously, up to and including the servants, who treated him with respect due his status as heir of the family fortune, but who liked to gossip about his oddities.

Gregory, had been a breath of fresh air.

He might not have had any formal education, but he had had a keen mind and, more importantly, a disposition to learn, even if those things Mycroft could teach were of little practical use to him. He listened and asked questions and actually engaged in intelligent conversation with the Holmes heir. Not once treating him dismissively, as Alphas tended to do.  Mycroft supposes it’s not really that surprising he ended up falling for him.

The fact that he’s unfairly handsome probably helped too.

When their “relationship” started is much easier to pinpoint, or at least so it would seem. Mycroft supposes the first time they had sex should count as the start of it, even if there had been a lot of flirting before that. Then again, he’s not quite sure Gregory noticed he was flirting with him or if he only got the clue when Mycroft went ahead and kissed him. On the mouth.

Either way, that was probably the start of his slow descent into this particular hell of his own creation.

But no matter what, he can never bring himself to think it wasn’t worth it.

* * *

* * *

**_2 years earlier_ **

There’s some big event in London and so his parents left in the morning, since they were supposed to have lunch with one of his father’s business partners. They took Sherlock with them, because, apparently, he wanted to come along and while Mycroft suspects he’s up to something, he doesn’t try to warn his parents. It’s not like they’d listen to him, anyway.

Which is why, he’s pretty much on his own. Most of the servants have been given the day off. He reads for a while and later draws a little, but he quickly bores. He’s never been a social creature, but sometimes he does miss company.

A certain someone’s company. But that’s neither here nor there.

He decides to take a stroll across the family lands, gazing around absentmindedly, not thinking about anything in particular even though his thoughts keep insisting on going in the same certain someone’s direction.

Mycroft sighs, running his fingers through his short hair. He’s being ridiculous, really.

His careless steps lead him to the small river that marks the limits of the property and he stands by the edge of it, gazing at the sparkling water for the longest time. It’s not terribly deep or wide; it barely deserves being called a river. The old books in the house said it used to be wider and it provided water for the whole region, but that was many centuries ago.

A misstep and he tumbles down, falling headfirst into the water. He stands up right way, the water merely reaching his waist and he huffs, annoyed with his own clumsiness. Luckily, there’s no one around to witness his embarrassing stunt and so he steps out, cursing softly under his breath as he makes his way back towards the house.

“Oh, my! Are you alright, your Lordship?” Gregory asks, appearing seemingly out of thin air and Mycroft blushes to the roots of his hair. Of all the people who could have found him, why did it have to be the subject of his musings?

“Yes, quite,” he says, a bit snappishly. “And it’s Mycroft, as I’ve told you a hundred times before.”

The servant smiles politely and doesn’t comment, placing a hand on the small of his back as he guides him into the house, as if Mycroft doesn’t know in which direction his room is. He doesn’t complain, though, a shiver running down his spine at the unexpected but welcomed warm contact. “We better get you out of those wet clothes,” Gregory says, probably mistaking the reason of his shiver. “You’ll catch a cold otherwise.”

He’s concerned and that’s sweet, but Mycroft is thinking of an altogether different thing, Gregory’s words rebounding inside his head. He’s not particularly attractive, he knows (and his mother is fond of reminding him, in case he ever forgets) so he doesn’t really think he has a shot with the handsome Beta, never mind he’s a lord’s son and so a relationship between them would be completely scandalous. Still, there’s no harm in fantasizing about the things that can’t be.

They end up in his room and true to his word, Gregory helps him out of his clothes. Mycroft is used to servants helping him dress or undress, but it somehow feels different now. Maybe because he’s attracted to the man currently undoing his buttons and he can’t help the way his body reacts to the contact.

It’s embarrassing, really.

And yet--

An Alpha would have picked on the change in his scent by now, but Gregory is a Beta and so he probably can’t smell it just yet. Mycroft wonders if he should send him away now and save them both the embarrassment of the Beta rejecting him, but--

The kiss is clumsy and it’s very evident Gregory wasn’t expecting it. The older man freezes briefly, his hands going immediately to Mycroft’s shoulders, ready to push him away but Mycroft presses forward, throwing his arms around the other’s neck, pulling him as close as he dares.

For a couple of seconds, Mycroft is convinced the other will pull away and then let him down gently, but the next thing he knows he’s being pressed against the door and kissed within every inch of his life. He can’t help the exhilarated giggle that escapes him, feeling overwhelmed but beyond happy.

They pull away for air eventually and Mycroft notices Gregory’s clothes are now also wet in all the points their bodies where making contact (which is pretty much everywhere). He smiles shyly, feeling bold after noticing his partner’s erection pressing against the front of his pants. “We should get you out of these wet clothes too,” he whispers huskily, hoping to sound seductive even though he can feel his cheeks burning at his own forwardness.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Gregory says, but he’s already opening his pants and Mycroft giggles again, half excited and half terrified. He hadn’t expected  that things would take this turn, but now that they’re happening he can’t find within himself the will to stop, even if he knows he should.

“Probably not,” he agrees, pulling his companion towards the bed, making him sit and coming to straddle him. “But I don’t care.”

“Mycroft,” Gregory holds him by the hips, tone deadly serious, his touch firm. “I… You… We shouldn’t.”

He knows. God, he knows they shouldn’t. But-- “It doesn’t matter. No one has to find out.” He leans down for a kiss, that’s entirely too enthusiastic and clumsy.

“It’s not… I just… are you sure you want this? With me?” Gregory asks, pulling away even though it’s evident he wants this too, probably just as much as Mycroft. He’s a gentleman, however and determined not to take advantage of Mycroft’s messy hormones.

There’s no one else in the world he’d rather do this with, but Mycroft figures saying as much would be admitting too much. “Do you?” he asks, pressing forward, his hand finding his partner’s erection, making him moan. “Please,” he murmurs softly, his lips against Gregory’s ear. “I want you.”

“I… Mycroft listen… oh god, please stop moving, I’m…” the hands on his hips tighten their grip, making it impossible to move. “I can’t… there’s not… I can’t offer you anything other than this.”

Well, that’s… understandable, really. And Mycroft doesn’t give a damn, honestly, not when this feels so damn good and all he knows it’s that he wants more. “That’s fine,” he says breathlessly, leaning down for another kiss. “I don’t want anything else.”

“Oh god,” Gregory murmurs as Mycroft starts nuzzling his jaw. “I think… you’re not…your first time shouldn’t--”

“Oh please,” Mycroft argues, biting on his companion neck none too gently, the other’s hips bucking up. “This isn’t… I just… we’re all alone now. Why shouldn’t we?”. It’s not his best argument, but he’s finding it increasingly hard to think clearly. He wants this man, has wanted him for far too long and now that he’s finally within reach... “Please,” he pleads once more, voice pinched low in what he hopes is a seductive manner. “Fuck me.”

It’s like a switch goes off inside his companion’s head and next thing he knows he’s lying flat of his back, the Beta hovering over him, a hungry look on his face that Mycroft thinks is particularly flattering. He licks his lips in a nervous gesture, although he hopes it doesn’t give away how nervous he really is. He wants this, he really does, but this is his first time and he doesn’t know what to expect, although he certainly  trusts Gregory.

He hadn’t expected this to ever come to pass, but now that it’s happening… well, why shouldn’t he enjoy every second of it?

* * *

* * *

**_Present day_ **

“Are you planning on staying in your room forever?” a voice asks behind him, startling him out of his pleasant remembrance. He looks over his shoulder as the subject of his musings enters the room, carrying a breakfast tray.

“That’s more or less the plan, yes,” he agrees casually, leaving his side by the window, one hand absentmindedly caressing his abdomen. “I’ve been watching the emissaries come and go all morning. Father seems determined to find me a groom before the week is over.”

Gregory makes a face but doesn’t comment and Mycroft is grateful for it. He really doesn’t want to discuss the subject, particularly not with the man he actually wants to marry.

“You should eat,” the servant says after a beat, gesturing to the tray. “It’s not healthy to go these many hours without food, particularly not for someone in your condition.”

Mycroft nods absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on the couple of pastries laying on the tray. “You know I’m not supposed to eat this. Mummy would have a fit, if she finds out” he says, picking up one, smiling delightfully as he takes a bite. There’s not much point in watching his figure right now, he thinks, but he doubts Mummy would agree. “God! This is delicious.”

Gregory is watching him very intently and Mycroft’s stomach flips funnily, heat pooling in his abdomen. “Well, what my Lady doesn’t know can’t possible hurt her.” He has come to stand closer and Mycroft smiles slyly, grabbing him by the lapel of his suit jacket and pulling him closer.

“That much is true,” he agrees, tilting his head downwards, so his lips are hovering just above his companion. Gregory stares at him for a beat before leaning forward, kissing him sweetly, almost chastely. “Thank you for the breakfast,” he adds, kissing his companion once more. “But I’m afraid I’m craving a whole different thing.”

Gregory huffs, amused, wrapping his arms around his waist, and pulling him impossibly close, so their bodies are flushed together now. “I think I might be able to do something about that too.”

Mycroft grins. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

God, why does he insist on digging this grave deeper? Of what use the memories of these moments together will be for him later, when he’s married and miserable and far away from the man he loves?

But then Gregory is kissing him again and all his good sense flies through the window.

He supposes it doesn’t really matter anymore.

He’s doomed anyway.

* * *

“You really need to eat something now,” his lover tells him some time later, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before getting out of the bed and hurrying to re-dress. “And I need to go back to my duties, before someone notices I’m missing.”

Mycroft huffs, burying his face in the pillow his partner was using just a few seconds ago and taking a deep breath. He enjoys the Beta’s scent, even though it’s barely perceptible.

“Mycroft, I’m serious,” Gregory says, cupping his jaw gently, making him turn to face him. “You need to eat.”

In moments like this, is entirely too easy to imagine his partner does care for him in the same way that Mycroft does, but he knows it’s just an illusion. Gregory is a good and considerate man, he probably behaves this way with any other lovers he has.

Not that Mycroft has ever seen anything that suggests there are other lovers, but then he spends most of the year at his school, so who knows.

“I will,” he promises, sitting up, kissing Gregory’s palm when he tries to pull away. “Will I see you later?”

Gregory is watching him with a funny expression that Mycroft can’t quite interpret, but he snaps out of it after hearing him talk. “Yes. Probably,” he pauses briefly, thinking about his answer. “I’m not sure. Are you aware your parents are throwing a party to celebrate their anniversary?”

No, he wasn’t, but he doesn’t find it surprising. It’s a good way to gather all the prospects his father is considering for this marriage business. “I see,” he murmurs, a little dejectedly. He had always known his parents would never allow him to attend college and that they’d marry him off before he was 18, but he supposes his own foolishness has sped things a little.

Nothing for it, of course.

“Are you alright?” Gregory asks, sounding honestly concerned and Mycroft’ heart breaks a little more, but he nods all the same, waving a hand dismissively. His partner watches him in silence for a beat before leaning down to press yet another kiss to the top of his head and then exiting the room, careful to look around and make sure no one will see him leave.

Mycroft sighs, leaning back on the bed, covering his face with his hands. God, this is a nightmare!

He feels the baby move then and he can’t help the sad smile that comes unbidden to his lips. Keeping the child was certainly not one of his wisest decisions, but there’s no way he could part himself from this memento of the man he loves.

No matter the cost, it’s most definitely worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone? I’m a little concerned about pacing. Having the flashback in the middle sounded like a good idea inside my head, but I’m not sure if it makes the reading a little difficult. Also, I fear this chapter might feel a little all over the place :P  
> Can you see where things went wrong with these two? The flashback was important precisely because of that, because there’s the reason they both believe the other don’t feel the same way :P I’m really curious if it’s noticeable or not ;)  
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Next update should be ready soonish (by friday, if things continue to be slow at work)  
> Let me know what you thought!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter! The ending is nearly upon us, although the angst continues… :P  
> Enjoy?

Greg leans against the door of the stables, staring absentmindedly in the general direction of the house. The lights in the entire first floor are blazing and while he’s too far away to hear anything, he can imagine well enough the music playing and the buzz from the chatter of the guests. 

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, thinking he has a long night ahead from him. 

It’s not that bad, he thinks, considering the other options. Looking after the guest carriages and the horses is not entirely terrible, although it’s certainly boring. The carriage drivers are currently at the servants dining room, having dinner of their own and they’ll come around in a couple of hours probably, so at least he’ll have some company later tonight. 

Not that he feels particularly in the mood for company, truth to be told. 

The party is all a ruse, to cover the ongoing negotiations. Most Alphas wouldn’t marry an already pregnant Omega, but then Mycroft is the oldest son of a rather prominent peer and more than one would be happy to get their hands on the Holmes’ fortune. Lord Holmes knows this, of course, and so he has invited every nobleman and woman who could possibly be  persuaded to overlook his son’s… unfortunate condition. 

Just thinking about it makes Greg’s stomach turn unpleasantly. Mycroft deserves so much more than that and if he could-- 

But, there’s no point in entertaining such thoughts. 

A sound coming from just outside the stables startles him out of his morose thoughts. He stands up straighter, listening closely for any other sound and basically pounces on the mysterious newcomer when he turns around the corner, holding him by the arm and pushing him against the wall. 

“Mycroft!” he exclaims, surprised, letting him go immediately and the Omega offers him an amused smile. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the party?” 

His companion scoffs. “As if. Do you think either of my parents wants someone to see me like this?” he gestures at his swollen abdomen, expression a little self-deprecating, although he composes himself rather quickly, offering Greg an ironic smile instead. 

The Omega is wearing a pair of loose pants and an even looser shirt, but his belly is impossible to miss by now. He must be around the six month and Greg thinks he looks as handsome as ever, although he seems to have a special kind of glow now. 

Then again, Greg maybe a little biased. 

“And so you’ve come to keep me company instead?” 

Mycroft smiles seductively, leaning against the stables’ door and Greg’s heart skips a beat. “That was the plan, yes,” his companion agrees, placing a hand over his arm lightly, almost tentatively. “If you’re interested, that is.” 

Considering how sporadically they see each other, they do tend to take advantage of every opportunity that presented itself to have sex when Mycroft’s home during the holidays, but this is getting ridiculous. Not that Greg is particularly inclined to complain, of course, but he does wonder about Mycroft’s sudden enthusiasm. 

Asking probably won’t help the matter and he must admit he’s not exactly eager to learn the truth. 

He hums thoughtfully, pulling the other man in for a kiss. It would be dangerous to be doing this out in the open, but tonight he doubts there’s anyone roaming the grounds. The servants too occupied with the guests and the guests too busy drinking and gossiping. 

Still-- 

“Do you really want to do it here?” 

Mycroft shrugs casually, his arms loosely wrapped around his neck. “Well, I mean, it’s not in my top ten places to have sex, but why not?” 

Greg blinks, processing the words. There’s such a sharp contrast between this Mycroft and the one he usually spies at formal events. Mycroft, oldest Holmes heir, is perfectly reserved and polite, always keeping his head down when the situation calls for it. Maybe when he was younger he would snap at people who were treating him dismissively, but nowadays… He’s the picture of a properly raised Omega (except for the baby part now). 

That Mycroft lacks a fire this one is full of and a part of Greg (a ridiculous, silly, hopeless part of him) is oh-so-very-glad that he’s one of the few who gets to see him. Another part of him (the more reasonable, less selfish one) thinks it’s a pity, because not only is he way more interesting like this, it also truer to his real self. “You have a top ten?” he asks after a perhaps too lengthy a pause, noticing his partner seems to be growing concerned and not wishing to spoil the moment. His companion smirks then, one eyebrow arched. “Which ones did make it to the top ten?” he asks, mentally going through all the places they’ve actually had sex in. He doesn’t think the list is that long, really. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Mycroft asks seductively, biting his lip in the most distracting manner and Greg’s thoughts promptly get derailed. He has known all along Mycroft has had other lovers, he certainly wasn’t the first, although he has a hard time imagining who might have been the first. But that’s the sort of question he shouldn’t ask, not even to himself, because it’s a sure way to darken his mood. 

He considers their options briefly. Mycroft is taller, so that complicates manners a little. He distinctly recalls once having him against the kitchen’s door (did the kitchen make it to the top ten?) but in his current state that might be tricky. The last thing he wants is to put any pressure on his partner’s abdomen: he might not know much about pregnancies or babies, but he figures that can’t be good for the child.  

He imagines the floor won’t be comfortable and he huffs, slightly annoyed. He hadn’t really considered engaging in such activities tonight, but considering Mycroft is already here… 

Well. He supposes there’s one thing he can do. 

“Come on then,” he says, grabbing the Omega by the wrist and pulling him into the stables. “Better not to do it out in the open.” 

Mycroft rolls his eyes rather dramatically but doesn’t protest, following willingly, a small satisfied smile on his lips. He closes the door after them and the room is entirely too dark, with only some light coming through a high window, but it’s not like it matters. It’s a well-practiced dance, even if Greg prefers to see his partner come undone. 

He kneels on the ground, thinking his knees are probably going to protest for this later, but he doesn’t particularly care at the moment, busy as he is with more interesting and pressing manners. 

Besides, it’s likely this little…  whatever they have will be over very soon. 

So he’ll enjoy it while he can. 

* * *

“What are you thinking about?”  

Mycroft doesn’t react right away, busy as he is contemplating his life choices. Why does he keep torturing himself like this? Every day he tells himself he has made his peace with his situation and that the wisest thing to do is start distancing himself from the man he loves, if only to make the pain more bearable when he loses him for good and then… then… 

Then he’ll go looking for him, incapable of letting go, hating himself for his weakness. He caresses his abdomen absentmindedly, willing the baby to calm down since they’re kicking with enthusiasm and he thinks he already has the best memento he could ask of this ill-advised romance. So why keep adding to the memories that will do nothing but torture him later? 

“Mycroft?” Gregory prods once again and he blinks, turning to his companion who is watching him with open concern. They’re currently sitting on the floor of the stables, on an old blanket Gregory found somewhere. It’s not exactly comfortable, not by far and yet Mycroft thinks there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, not meeting the other man’s eyes. “I was… I just…” He rests his head against the wall, thinking how much he should reveal. “You know, you’re an entirely too considerate lover. I doubt my husband will even give a damn about whether or not I’ll enjoy it.” 

It’s the wrong thing to say, he knows and from the corner of his eye he notices the way Gregory’s expression turns anguished, making him look away. It’s the truth, but probably not the sort of thing they should be discussing. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, rather uselessly. “I just…” He looks in the direction of the house, even though from his current angle he can’t see anything. “My future is being decided right now and I… as much as I want to think about anything else…” 

“I understand,” Gregory murmurs, one hand resting on his knee and squeezing. “I…” He bites his lip, biting back whatever useless platitudes he could offer and Mycroft sighs, allowing himself to rest his head on his partner’s shoulder, basking in his warmth.  

“I did enjoy our time together a great deal,” he assures him, figuring he can say as much. “I… I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” 

Gregory lets out an awful sound that seems an humourless chuckle, but Mycroft can’t quite interpret it and next thing he knows the Beta is onto his feet, pacing around. “Don’t say it like that,” Gregory murmurs finally. “It doesn’t… I don’t… goddess Mycroft! you make it sound like it was a chore of some sort.” 

Mycroft sighs, pulling his knees to his chest, suddenly feeling very young. He never knows the right thing to say, not when it comes to Gregory. He learned the right answers to appease his parents whenever they asked something from him and he learned how to act around literally everyone else, but something about this man… 

What is it about this man that makes everything so much more difficult? 

“Mycroft,” the Beta says, kneeling on the ground once more, cupping his cheek gently. “I don’t… I’m sorry I snapped at you.” 

“It’s fine,” he replies with a shrug. “It’s been… a difficult night. A difficult week. A difficult month, really.” 

Gregory huffs, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I still shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry.” 

Mycroft nods, leaning forward, chasing his partner’s lips. Who knows how long it’ll be before someone apologizes for hurting his feelings again? And besides, there’s so little time they have left, what’s the use of souring it with pointless discussions? 

The baby kicks again, this time with a little too much strength and he winces. Gregory looks worried right away, but he shakes his head. “It’s nothing. The baby is just a little restless.” 

His companion watches him for a beat, his gaze fixed on his belly. “May I?” he asks softly, hesitantly and Mycroft wonders if his heart can handle breaking a little more. 

“Sure,” he agrees quietly, stretching his legs once more and his lover sits between them, extending one hand and placing it gently on his abdomen. For a second, the world holds still and then the baby kicks again. 

Gregory’s face lights up immediately and Mycroft tries to smile back, despite the fact he can feel tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. Gregory however doesn’t notice, busy as he is caressing his belly almost reverently, his touch extremely gentle and (dare he think it?) loving. 

God, how he wishes he could tell him the truth. 

But that would accomplish nothing, except make things awkward between them and seeing he’ll soon be far away from here, he knows it doesn’t matter anyway. He’ll take his secret with him and Gregory… 

Well. He supposes he’ll simply move on. 

It’s an entirely depressing thought. 

* * *

The house is quiet the following morning, any of the guests who stayed the night still asleep. Most of the servants are busy preparing breakfast and Greg finds himself without anything to do, so he roams the halls, haunted by his regrets. 

There’s nothing to do, of course. Lord Holmes will find his son a suitable spouse and they’ll probably be married before the baby is born and that’ll be the end of it. Even if Mycroft felt something for him (anything at all), there’s simply no way around it. So all these crazy…  plans brewing inside his head aren’t not only pointless, they’re also stupid. 

Voices coming from the drawing room make him stop his wandering, curiosity piqued. As he steps closer to the door, he thinks he has lost what little sense of self-preservation he had: if anyone caught him-- 

But he recognizes one of the voices and while he can not make out the words, he can hear the distress in it. He peeks inside the room, just as he did when this whole mess began, just as Mycroft’s starts speaking once more, tone pitched high in both frustration and slight panic. 

“My Lord, you will desist right now!” the Omega exclaims, trying to push off the man who has him crowded against the piano, hands extended in front of him, an expression of utter disgust on his face. “I do not--” 

“Now, now, Mr. Holmes. No need to play coy--” 

“Let me go right this instant or I’ll--” 

“Or you’ll what?” the Alpha challenges, one hand closing around Mycroft’s wrist with too much violence. “Your father has already agreed to the deal, all I’m doing is collecting my dues a little earlier.” Mycroft continues struggling and the man tightens his grip around his wrist. “And if you wish to keep your little bastard, you’ll stop resisting right now.” 

That gives Mycroft pause, naturally, but he continues glaring daggers at his captor. Greg itches to do something, anything at all, but he knows it might put them both in a precarious situation. 

What Mycroft does next though, might be just as unwise. He spits at the other man, looking defiant and the Alpha snarls, before slapping him. 

Greg forgets himself right then, pushing the door open. He’ll probably be fired, at the very least, but he won’t let this brute hurt Mycroft in any way. 

The sound however, seems to startle the Lord, who lets go of Mycroft’s wrist right away. Greg ponders his options, taking in the man’s look: he’s a little taller than himself, he thinks, but nowhere near as young (somewhere along his middle thirties, he thinks) and rather skinny looking, although Alphas tend to be stronger than Betas, no matter how they look. 

And then he notices the panicked pleading look Mycroft is sending in his direction and he figures resorting to violence might not be the wisest way to go about this. 

“Apologies for the interruption, your Lordship,” he says, bowing a little, eyes fixed on Mycroft. “But the Lady Holmes is asking for you.” 

Mycroft offers him a brief grateful smile. “Very well,” he says, turning to address the Alpha, although not quite looking at him. “If you will excuse me, my Lord, my mother is calling for me.” 

The Lord sneers but doesn’t protest as Mycroft slips out of the room, closely followed by Greg. They hurry down the hall, in the general direction of the main room, not talking until they’ve put some distance between themselves and the drawing room. 

“That man--” 

“Lord Magnussen,” Mycroft explains, expression perfectly blank. “It seems he and Father have come to an agreement.”  

“Mycroft, you can’t--” 

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice,” he murmurs, wincing a little as he examines his wrist in the light coming from the window, the skin already bruising. “But I do not intend to let him touch me until our wedding night. What little time I can buy myself--” 

“Mycroft, he hurt you! If… if he acts this way when the engagement isn’t even official, what do you think will happen once you’re married?” 

“And what do you suggest I do, then?” 

Run, is Greg’s first thought. “Talk to your father. He’ll probably--” 

“You don’t understand,” the Omega interrupts, shaking his head. “I’ve… I’ve sullied the family’s honour, I can’t… I must… He’s willing to have me. That’s all that matters.” He’s shaking, Greg notices and without thinking he pulls him into his arms, although Mycroft breaks free right away. “Not here,” he murmurs quietly, stepping back and taking deep breaths. “I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not,” Greg argues and his companion offers him a pained smile. 

“No, I suppose not,” Mycroft agrees quietly. They stand in silence for a minute, both at a loss of what to say. There’s nothing Greg can do to make things better, of course, but he wishes… 

“What about… Well, you said you haven’t told your child’s other parent about the pregnancy, maybe--?” 

“I can’t,” Mycroft interrupts, looking honestly pained and Greg wonders just what exactly the other is hiding. “It wouldn’t be of any use. I… this is my best shot, really.” 

Greg sincerely doubts it. 

But what can he do? 

* * *

The engagement gets announced during breakfast, so the guests who stayed the night are invited to an “improvised” (but not really) engagement party. Mycroft tries to stay out of everyone’s way, well out of his fiancé’s reach, although he can feel the man’s eyes following his every move all day. 

It’s absolute hell. 

Of course, he didn’t quite expect any better. He knew that whoever his parents could choose for him wouldn’t be pleasant and he had known all along that an unhappy marriage was waiting for him. He’s worried, he won’t deny that, particularly for his baby, but there’s nothing to do now. 

He thinks of Gregory’s words as his eyes land on his father, who is talking to some of his business partners, none of the tension of the last month noticeable in the way he stands. If he told him about this morning… would he agree to cancel the engagement? He doubts it. Maybe under different circumstances he would, but right now he’d probably say it doesn’t matter anyway: he has already let someone else defile him,  he should let his fiancé do as he pleased. He’d probably say he should have thought about that before deciding to sleep around. 

But that’s the one thing he can’t regret. He caresses his belly and tells himself he’ll be fine. Sure, his married bed promises to be all kinds of unpleasant and it’s likely his life in general will be rather painful, but what’s done is done and if he gets to keep his child… Well. He’ll endure.

He retires to his room as soon as he can, claiming to have a headache. He locks the door and collapses on the bed, crying his heart out. His fate has been decided and crying won’t help one bit, but-- 

He just doesn’t know what to do. 

* * *

His parents had owned a rather rundown house at the edge of town, which had been sold when they passed away and he and his sister went to work at the Holmes manor. They had split the money, half for each and that’s the money his sister used to move into the city. It’s not much, not by far, but it should be enough to get them far enough to start anew. 

Greg hopes Mycroft will agree to come with him. There’s nothing he can offer him really; just his meagre savings, the promise to never hurt him and his undying love. It’s much less than what the other man deserves, but Greg hopes it’ll be enough to get him to leave the hell he’s walking into. 

He sighs and after making sure his traveling bag won’t be easily spotted by someone who happens to be wandering outside the house (although he’s counting on no one being out this late at night), he silently makes his way back into the house, in the direction of Mycroft’s room. 

Here’s to hoping. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?  
> I was going to end the chapter with Mycroft’s last scene but it just felt so damn hopeless. Besides, having that last part of Greg’s POV, I think the next chapter can start at a much better place.  
> There’s a happy ending coming, I swear! ;)  
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, on Friday I was asked to do some actual work and as much as I wanted to tell my boss I had a fic to finish… well. I just couldn’t say no :P Luckily, after reading the first 5 pages of the document I was reviewing, I noticed there was something really wrong with the methodology and after pointing it out to my boss, I was spared of finishing it, so I did manage to write a little ;)  
> And so here we are! The final chapter! I hope you’ll enjoy it!

The knock on the door startles Mycroft out of his restless sleep. His heart is beating rather erratically, to the point of it being painful. His throat feels dry and there's a sense of urgency in the back of his head. He can't remember the particulars of the dream he was having, but he’s certain it wasn't pleasant. 

He takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. He rubs his breastbone absentmindedly, in an effort to make his heart stop aching so. The baby moves inside him restlessly, no doubt upset due Mycroft’s own rattled state and he continues taking deep breaths, although they don't seem to be doing anything for him. 

Another knock on the door has him jumping out of bed. Who could be knocking this late at night? He shivers, remembering his morning’s…  encounter with his soon-to-be husband, and he wonders if he’d dare to try to assault him in his own bedroom. 

The answer, he fears, is yes.  

“Mycroft?” comes a soft voice from the other side of the door and Mycroft immediately relaxes. It’d be funny, the effect Gregory’s sole voice has on him, if it didn’t make him all-too-aware of just how far gone he is for the other man. 

He hurries to the door, unlocking it and allowing the Beta to slip in, making sure to close and lock the door right away. He hates showing any vulnerability, but there’s something about his companion that always makes him feel safe and so he doesn’t hesitate to throw his arms around his partner's neck and bury his face against the side of his neck, allowing fresh tears to fall. 

It’s unbecoming to be acting this way, he knows and yet he also knows Gregory won’t judge him for his moment of weakness. Instead, the Beta hugs him close, running a hand up and down his back, whispering soft words of comfort against his ear. 

Finally, after what feels like a lifetime later, Mycroft pulls away, feeling more composed. 

At least until he gets a good look at his companion’s face. 

“What--?” he begins but gets promptly interrupted by the other man. 

“Run away with me.” 

Mycroft blinks, processing the words, incapable of believing his own ears. “What?” he repeats, more than a little baffled and his companion offers him a small, sad smile. 

“I know there’s nothing I can offer you,” Gregory says, seemingly taking Mycroft’s surprise as a rebuttal. “Certainly not a comfortable life. But I… Mycroft, I… I promise I’ll look after you and your child as if they were my own. It’s not much. Believe me I know,  but you can not… if you marry that brute…” 

Mycroft just observes him in silence, looking for an explanation for Gregory’s proposal. He’s a good man, he knows, but he’d hate for him to do something he does not want to do out of some misguided sense of duty (or even worse, pity). 

“Mycroft,” Gregory insists pleadingly, mistaking the Omega’s silence for refusal. “Please. I don’t… I’m not asking for anything you’re not willing to give. If you want, I’ll never touch you again; you’d owe me nothing   at all, I don’t expect anything from you, but please, come with me. Don’t marry that monster.” 

It occurs to him, rather belatedly, that he has misjudged Gregory’s intentions towards him. To think that all he ever wanted has always been within his grasp-- 

“You love me,” he states, tone disbelieving, the weight of the revelation making his head spin. He loves him, dear god, Gregory loves him! Has probably loved him all along and he-- he-- 

Oh, he has let him believe so many lies. Unknowingly he has been so cruel to his poor beloved’s heart. He has hurt them both with his own blindness and now-- now-- 

But it’s not too late to make amends, is it? 

Gregory isn’t looking at him, probably embarrassed by the ill-timed confession. Oh, they need to talk, they need to talk so badly but-- “Alright,” Mycroft murmurs, cupping his partner’s face between his hands, guiding him so they’re looking at each other directly. “Let’s go,” he adds, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to his lover’s lips. 

They’ve been so blind and so foolish. 

But there’ll be time for recriminations later. For now, they’ve got more pressing matters to attend to. 

Namely, getting out of here. 

* * *

 

Stopping for the night is out of the question, but by midday it’s becoming quite evident they need to rest, if nothing else to stop the horse from dropping dead, exhausted after so much running. Besides, while Mycroft has been dozing off, head resting against Greg’s back, arms wrapped loosely around his middle, Greg doubts he’s particularly comfortable. 

He must admit his “escape plan” could have used a little actual planning, but they couldn’t afford to waste any time. Although a date for the wedding hadn’t been announced yet, it couldn’t have been that far away; not considering Mycroft’s state. They need to put as much distance between them and Mycroft’s parents and fiancé as they possibly can and so to keep moving is vital. 

But exhausting themselves and their horse will do them no favours and so he resolves they’ll stop at the next tavern they happen to pass. 

“Mycroft?” he questions, wondering if his companion is awake. There’s something he’d like to discuss before they arrive to their destination and while he’s a bit… worried about the subject, he figures there’s no escaping it. 

A very pregnant Omega and a Beta traveling together will make most people curious, the lack of an obvious relation will make them speculate. They need to pass as unnoticed as possible and so-- 

“Yes?” Mycroft asks groggidly, tiredness evident in his tone although it’s obvious he’s trying not to let it show. “What’s the matter?” 

“I think we should stop to grab something to eat,” Greg says, not quite daring to voice his plan just yet. “I just… I was thinking… we want to go as unnoticed as possible, right? And an unbonded couple traveling together, especially when one is pregnant…” 

“Ah,” Mycroft agrees dispassionately. “What do you propose?” 

Greg gulps nervously, before pulling a pair of tarnished rings out of his cloak. They had belonged to his parents, but they were old and not worth much, so his sister hadn’t wanted to keep them and Greg had kept them out of a sense of nostalgia, never quite believing he might have any use for them. 

Now though… 

Mycroft’s chin is resting on his shoulder, watching the rings curiously, but Greg doesn’t dare to turn to fully look at him. His companion picks one of the rings, examining it in the light and Greg’s heart skips a beat. It’s pitiful, he knows, nothing at all what Mycroft would deserve and in any case they’re just part of a disguise, but he can’t help thinking-- 

“How does it go?” Mycroft murmurs to himself, taking Greg’s left hand, making the Beta’s heart stop in his chest. “With this ring, I take you to be my lawful wedded husband, in sickness and health, in wealth and poverty, until death do us part?” Greg’s heart is beating painfully as Mycroft slides the ring into his finger, overwhelmed by a sense of longing so strong he’s worried his heart will simply give up. Mycroft knows how he feels about him now, doesn’t he see how this mockery of a marriage hurts him? 

“Yes,” he whispers back, breathlessly, taking the other ring and sliding it into Mycroft’s finger. “That’s how it goes.” 

Mycroft hums thoughtfully, once more resting his head against Greg’s back. “We need to talk,” he murmurs softly. “Tonight, I think, if we stop to get some actual sleep.” 

Greg nods stiffly, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead. 

He’s not looking forward to that conversation at all. 

* * *

 

They stop for lunch and they sell the horse Gregory took from his parents’ stables. They buy a new one from another passing traveller, hoping it’ll buy they some time by throwing their possible pursuers off their scent. Mycroft thinks that if this had happened a week ago, his parents would have simply given up on him as a bad job, but now that a fiancé has been added into the mix… well. Lord Magnussen doesn’t strike him as the kind of man who would let such affront to his pride to go unpunished. 

For that, he feels a little regretful. If only-- 

But it matters no more. What’s done is done and all they can do now is try to get somewhere far enough where no one will look for them. 

He feels a bit remorseful, thinking of his younger brother and how he has practically abandoned him. But he’s hopeful Sherlock will understand: even if he had stayed, he’d have had to leave his brother behind. And with any luck, he’ll find a way to communicate with him once they’ve settled down somewhere. 

Gregory is talking to the innkeeper and Mycroft looks around the small crowded dining room. Lunch was seemingly a lifetime ago and his stomach is already protesting at the lack of food. Money is a little tight, though, even adding the little money he had himself. They still have a few days of traveling ahead of them and so he must get used to eat less than when he was back home. 

He thinks of all the diets his mother put him through and he thinks he’ll manage just fine. 

Gregory is now standing in front of him, gesturing for the stairs. Mycroft smiles and follows his companion upstairs, throwing one last longing look in the direction of the dining room.  

The room is small and practically bare, just a too small bed in the far corner with threadbare covers. Next to him Gregory murmurs something sadly, before dropping his travel bag on the floor. 

“You take the bed,” his companion instructs, looking bone-tired. “I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

Mycroft rolls his eyes. “Don’t be silly. It’s not like we’ve never shared a bed.” As much as he appreciates Gregory’s gentlemanly tendencies, he does find them ridiculous given the circumstances. 

“I--” 

“Come on,” he interrupts, shedding his cloak and carefully folding it on top of an old chair. He sheds off his pants and shirt too, so he’ll be more comfortable and hoping to keep his clothes as clean as possible. He couldn’t bring any of his clothes with him, since they would have stuck out and while Gregory found him some to wear, he just has a single change of clothes. 

He finishes undressing and hurries to get under the covers, the air too cold against his naked skin. He frowns, noticing Gregory hasn’t moved from his spot and he turns to him. “Well?” he prompts, lifting the covers a little. 

“I… I don’t think…” Gregory murmurs, not quite meeting his eyes and Mycroft sighs. 

It occurs him they really need to have that talk and it can’t possibly wait till the morning. Well, despite how tired he feels, he supposes that’s alright. “Gregory, get in the bed,” he orders sternly. “It’s freezing out there and if nothing else, we’ll keep each other warm.” 

His companion sighs, but nods and proceeds to undress, neatly folding his clothes next to Mycroft’s. He slips into the bed then, icy limbs pressing against Mycroft’s slightly more warm body, making him shiver. “Sorry about that,” Gregory murmurs, not quite meeting his eyes. 

This simply won’t do. 

Mycroft slides closer, pressing their bodies together. It’s too cold to be pleasant just yet, but in a little while it should get warmer under the covers. In the meantime… “I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding between us,” he murmurs and feels his partner immediately freeze, so he pulls him close, forcing himself to soldier on despite his nervousness. “I think I know where things went wrong too,” he adds, risking a quick glance at his companion’s face. “When you… the first time we were together, when you said you couldn’t offer me anything else… I took it as meaning you didn’t want anything other than sex, but now I see that what you meant, what you truly meant, wasn’t that you didn’t want anything more, but that circumstances wouldn’t allow for anything else to happen, didn’t you?” 

He’s far from his usual loquacious self, he knows and he wonders if his words made any real sense, but he doesn’t think he can phrase it any better. Gregory just frowns a little, processing the words and then realization seems to hit him. 

“Do you… do you mean to say…” 

“All this time, I’ve thought you didn’t want me,” Mycroft supplies helpfully. “Well. Not romantically, I could tell you wanted me physically.” He smiles teasingly, but it feels forced and he quickly sobers up. “And to avoid any awkwardness, I let you believe I didn’t either.” 

There’s a beat of tense silence and Mycroft’s stomach twists unpleasantly. Oh good lord, has he messed it up irreparably? He needed to tell Gregory the truth, of course, but maybe-- 

“And the baby?” Gregory asks finally, after what feels like a lifetime. 

“Yours,” Mycroft confesses quietly, not daring to meet his partner’s eyes. “I know you might find that hard to believe, but I never… You’ve been the only one, all along.” 

For a while, neither speaks and then Gregory makes a sound that seems to be between a chuckle and a sob. “Oh god. What a pair of fools we’ve been,” the Beta murmurs, laughing openly now although there are tears streaming down his cheeks. “All this time--” 

“I’m so terribly sorry,” Mycroft hurries to say, sounding rather desperate. “I never meant to hurt you. I just… I thought…” 

Gregory shakes his head, still laughing. “For someone so damn observant, you can be quite oblivious,” he says, cupping Mycroft’s face gently. “But by god, I love you all the more for it.” 

Mycroft’s heart skips a beat at the words, hope blossoming inside his chest. “Does that mean--?” 

“It means,” Gregory interrupts, kissing his lips very softly. “That my promise stands, although I’m glad to hear you feel the same way.” 

Mycroft smiles, leaning in for a kiss. “I love you,” he says, because it seems important to speak the words out loud and his partner beams, smile bright as the sun. 

“I love you too,” he whispers back. 

And Mycroft thinks he’ll never be happier than he is right now. 

* * *

 

Greg wakes up feeling warm and content, Mycroft’s back plastered against his chest. His heart swells with affection as the memories of the night before come back to him. He’d have contented himself with whatever Mycroft was willing to give him; to finally learn he has had his heart all along… 

It’s much more than he ever thought he’d get. Certainly, much more than what he deserves. 

He looks around the small room and his heart sinks, thinking once more that he could never offer Mycroft the life he’s used to, but he quickly determines he’ll do his very best to make it as comfortable as possible. If nothing else, he’ll make sure his partner and their child are looked after and as happy as possible. 

Their child, he thinks wonderingly, placing a hand over Mycroft’s belly. He had told Mycroft he’d love them as if they were his own and he meant it: they were partly Mycroft’s and that was enough for him, but now that he knows the baby is his too… 

He has no words to describe the feeling. 

Mycroft moves a little and the light reflects on the ring he’s still wearing, drawing Greg’s attention to it. His mother once told him that as long as you have love, you could never wish for anything else and he hopes that that will hold true for them. He knows he’ll never regret having asked Mycroft to run away with him and he hopes it’ll hold true for his partner too, although he fears… 

“It’s entirely too early for you to be thinking so loudly,” Mycroft complains, eyes still closed and Greg chuckles, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I just… I’m a little worried about the future.” 

Mycroft hums, pressing back so their bodies are closer together. “As long as we’re together, I’m not terribly worried about it,” he murmurs, looking over his shoulder and smiling a little. “I love you.” 

Greg smiles, feeling ready to burst with happiness. “I love you too.” 

Mycroft hums once again. “The day might come when the novelty of saying the words out loud and hearing them back will fade, but I find it hard to believe it right now.” He turns around, still smiling and pulls Greg in for a kiss. “I can not believe we wasted so much time.” 

“No sense on worrying about the past,” Greg argues good naturedly, kissing him deeply, earning himself a groan of appreciation that makes his blood boil. “We’ve got the rest of our lives ahead of us.” 

“True enough,” Mycroft agrees, throwing a leg over his hip so their bodies are flushed together. Greg groans, enjoying the friction, his fingers digging into Mycroft’s back. “And while we’re on that,” his lover adds, baring his throat for him. “Maybe we should make it official already.” 

It’s hard to think through the haze of lust and even more difficult when all Greg ever wanted is being offered to him, but-- “Not now. Not here,” he argues, pressing a kiss to Mycroft’s mating gland. “When we bond, I want to take my time.” 

Mycroft chuckles good naturedly, kissing him once more. “You old romantic,” he says fondly, smile bright. “Alright. I’ll hold you onto that.” 

Greg grins. 

* * *

 

It feels like they’ve been travelling for years. 

In truth, it hasn’t been more than two weeks. 

They took a hundred detours, Mycroft rethinking and changing the route ever so often. He had thought Gregory would grow frustrated with his seeming indecision, but the Beta hadn’t protested once, simply going along with his plans. You’re the smart one, he had responded, when Mycroft had questioned him and if he hadn’t decided he was going to marry this man already, that probably would have done the trick. 

He had gotten used to his opinions being dismissed and ignored, to the point where he rarely ever spoke without being prompted. He hated it, there’s no denying that, but fighting felt like too much of an effort and it’s not like it helped matters one bit. 

He had learned to pick his battles or so he told himself. Now he thinks maybe he had just resigned himself to his fate, taking what little happiness he could find along the way, and telling himself he was content with it. 

God, what a miserable life. 

Under that light, it’s easy to see that getting pregnant was a miracle in more than one way. He and Gregory should have had more trouble conceiving, but they hadn’t and this little slip helped them to finally realize what had been in front of their eyes all along. Moreover, the baby and the resulting need to marry him off as quickly and quietly as possible was what prompted him to finally turn his back to the hell his life was slowly turning into. 

I worry one day you’ll wake up and regret it, Gregory had confessed one night, while they had been lying sated underneath the covers, happy and warm in each other’s arms.  The life I can offer you is full of difficulties and strain. 

A golden cage is still a cage, Mycroft had replied, not wanting to darken the mood too much. His life had been much worse than any cage; it had been an honest to god hell on earth and Mycroft wonders how he endured it for so long in the first place. 

No matter what difficulties lie in their path, they’ll never bring him the pain his previous life would have. 

He runs a finger over the rusty material of the ring Gregory gave him. If he had stayed at home, now he’d be wearing a gold one, full of diamonds and other precious stones like the one his mother has. But it would have been a pretty soulless object: to be gazed upon, but without any deeper meaning, without any promise. 

Without any love. 

It’s sentimental, he knows and he’s never considered himself a man prone to sentimentalism, but he has always had a soft spot when it comes to Gregory and, to be completely honest, he doesn’t mind it one bit. 

He rubs his belly as the baby starts kicking in earnest. There are still a couple of months to go, but he thinks it’s time for them to settle down. They’re in a village in the north, somewhere small but with enough population so two newcomers haven’t caused too much interest. He had noticed the house from the moment they entered the town: an old thing that was mostly abandoned and which the owner would be happy to be parted from as long as they paid him well. So while Gregory had been getting them a room at the town’s inn, he had been investigating who the owner was and just how much they wanted for the place. 

A home, he thinks to himself, staring at the old house, a small smile on his lips. 

A home. What a concept!

* * *

 

“Rumour has it that you’re a real shark when it comes to negotiations.” 

Mycroft huffs, leaning back on the rocking chair, still staring outside the window. “Hardly. Mr. Sigerson was so eager to get rid of the old thing he would have practically accepted any price.” His lips curve upwards and Greg knows the negotiations didn’t go as smoothly as he’s implying. “But I might have… given him some extra incentive.” 

Greg smiles, amused. “Do I want to know?” 

Mycroft hums thoughtfully, watching Greg from the corner of his eye. “Probably not,” he replies finally and stands up, going to Greg’s side and throwing his arms around his neck. “So, how did it go?” 

Greg grins, remembering his good news. “Well, I found myself a job at the sheriff’s station.” Mycroft arches and eyebrow and he smiles some more. “It’s not much, truth to be told, but it pays decently and maybe one day--” 

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Mycroft interrupts, kissing him tenderly. “And we’ll be fine, my love. Do not fret quite as much.” 

Greg smiles, pulling his partner close and receiving a kick from the baby for his troubles. He and Mycroft share an amused smile before he leans forward to kiss him once again. “I think someone does not appreciate us getting affectionate.” 

Mycroft rolls his eyes dramatically and kisses him again, ignoring the fact the baby is kicking once more. Greg smiles into the kiss, pulling their bodies as close together as possible, allowing himself to simply enjoy the sensation of being able to kiss his lover without any other concern in the world. 

“By the way,” he murmurs, caressing his partner’s hip when they pull away. “I ran into Father Brown in town. He…  inquired when I was planning on making a decent Omega out of you.” 

“That’d be impossible,” Mycroft argues good naturedly, smiling. “I’m as indecent as they come. Why, I  created quite a scandal just a few months ago.” 

“More than one, if I recall correctly,” Greg says, smiling too. “First you ended up pregnant while unbonded. Then it turned out your child had been fathered by a common servant.” 

“Common is not the word I would use, ” his partner says, smiling widely now. 

“And then,” Greg continues, undeterred. “You eloped with said servant, leaving your very proper fiancé at the altar.” 

“Which he hardly minded.” 

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think he’ll be able to show his face in decent society for a while; not without being subjected to the worst kind of gossip.” 

Mycroft nods, conceding the point, his smile bright and warm and contagious. “See? Completely indecent.” 

“Indeed,” Greg agrees, pushing him onto the bed, making him chuckle and later moan as he leans down to press a heated kiss against his lips. “Not that I mind, of course.” 

“You wouldn’t,” Mycroft whispers, pulling him close, kissing him again. 

And for a while, there are no more words said. Or not any coherent ones, at least. 

* * *

 

“I am not opposed to marriage, though,” Mycroft says much later, as they lie together in the too small and uncomfortable bed, but that is a hundred times better than the one he left at the Holmes manor. 

“Neither would I,” Greg whispers, taking his partner’s hand and kissing his ring finger, where his mother’s ring still is. “I think it’d be a nice ending to this scandalous tale.” 

Mycroft smiles, kissing his companion’s own hand. “No, my dearest. It’d be a marvellous beginning.” 

Well. That too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone?  
> I fear this last chapter feels a bit… disembodied? because there’s just so much going on but I didn’t think writing an epilogue was a very good idea and I thought this might work better. I hope it wasn’t too confusing ;)  
> It’s been so long since I finished a WIP! True, this one is a very short one, but still. I’m proud of myself, really! ;)  
> Anyway, thanks to everyone for reading and for the kudos and comments! You guys keep me from completely giving up on writing, even on those days when I feel like I’ve run dry. I don’t know what I’d do without you :D  
> Thanks for reading! The rest of my WIPs should be updated soonish… so keep an eye for those, if you’re interested ;) Lots of hugs!  
> And if you want, let me know what you thought?

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my native language, so any mistakes you find, please point them out!  
> You can also find me in [tumblr](http://ylc1.tumblr.com/)


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